


Second Chance (Don't Waste it)

by SpaceApples



Series: Time Marches On [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Dismemberment, First Kiss, Hurt Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Relationship, basically nearly 5000 words of gavin pining, nothing too graphic, violence warning just to be safe but more like just aftermath of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 00:11:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16881912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceApples/pseuds/SpaceApples
Summary: It’s been seven months since Connor was reported missing. He knows what everyone else thinks- that Connor is long dead by now. He’s heard the whispers at the station. Just another sad story, adding to the disappearing androids case.He and Hank know exactly what happened.(Or: Gavin just really loves Connor, okay?)





	Second Chance (Don't Waste it)

**Author's Note:**

> My first dbh fic yay! I haven't written a finished fic in a good long while so this is quite an accomplishment for me :D I feel like i should say that i despised canon Gavin but fanon Gavin has made me fall in love with him. And that's a pretty amazing thing, so thank u to all content creators!

It’s been seven months since Connor was reported missing. He knows what everyone else thinks- that Connor is long dead by now. He’s heard the whispers at the station. Just another sad story, adding to the disappearing androids case. 43 and counting, including Connor.

He and Hank know exactly what happened. Connor got too close to solving it, so they took him out. There’s no other explanation. The last time Gavin saw him is proof that he was on to something substantial.

_He sets a hot cup of thirium on Connor’s desk as he makes his way out. It’s beyond late- they’re the only ones still here. He’d had a mountain of paperwork to do, but somehow staying at work until ungodly hours of the morning had gotten less excruciating since Connor was here most nights. The android in question doesn’t even notice him, eyes entirely focused on his computer._

_“You sure you don’t want a ride home?” he asks, knowing full well that Connor will decline, but still hoping. There is nothing in this world that feels better than Connor’s arms around him, body pressed up against him on the back of his bike. They’re puzzle pieces, Gavin is sure of it._

_“No, I’ll be here for a while longer. Go get some rest,” Connor waves him off without tearing his eyes from the screen._

_At the same time Gavin’s about to ask if he’s on to something, Connor makes a small, surprised noise and shoots up from his desk._

_“Finally found somethin’, huh?”_

_“Maybe so. Nothing concrete, but definitely something,” Connor flashes a smile at him- not his favorite earsplitting grin that crinkles his eyes, but a lopsided one that has his eyes sparkling. God, Gavin’s got the guy’s smiles memorized. The corners of his own mouth start to tick up because everyone knows Connor’s smiles are more contagious than yawns._

_He seems to notice the cup of thirium and his face goes even softer as he whispers his thanks. They just stare at each other. It feels like they should be kissing goodbye. Gavin wants to. He wants to kiss Connor more than he’s ever wanted anything. Maybe he will. He could just yank him in by the tie, it’d be so easy._

_His eyes catch on the computer screen showing photos of the recently missing androids. He takes a step back and the moment is gone, just like that. There’s a quick flash of disappointment across Connor’s face. Interesting._

_“Hey, text me when you make it home, okay? Ya know, with all this happening I just…”_

_Worry about you._

_“Of course.”_

It haunts him. Connor was- _is_ his friend. Probably his best friend, actually- which is a wild concept in and of itself. Two years ago, he probably would’ve punched anyone who told him he’d be deep in a seven-month depression over one android. But here he is. Therapy and everything.

Over a year with Connor being a constant thorn in his side and he’d completely fallen for him. In every sense. Then, like any good thing Gavin’s ever had, he _vanished._ He should’ve been there to protect him. Should have never left him alone. It’s a nightmare both he and Hank have, dare he say, _bonded_ over these past months. Connor would be proud at how civil they’ve been with each other.

He never got a text from Connor that night, but he sure as hell hasn’t stopped sending them himself. It’s stupid, really- he knows Connor isn’t seeing them, but it feels therapeutic. At least one a day, sometimes it’s a whole paragraph of rambling and sometimes just a couple words. He’s even called a few times, in really, _really_ low moments and left voicemails. Hank says it’s just obsessive, but the calls go through so that must mean something, right? Connor didn’t have a phone, he was always able to do everything in his freaky little mind. As long as his messages keep going through, he has to believe Connor is alive.

He didn’t sleep at first. He’d stay up night after night surviving on coffee, sure he would crack it soon, convinced they’d find Connor in a couple days. It’s like a rule that missing people are recovered within the first 72 hours and if not they’re usually-

Tina had sat him down and flat out said, “Maybe he just took off, you know? Maybe he wanted to start over somewhere new.”

No. He didn’t leave and he’s not dead. He’s missing.

Gavin _will_ find him.

He opens the text conversation that’s basically become his diary. ‘Robocop’ is the name of his contact. He hasn’t been able to bring himself to change it.

**_It’s been 7 months n getting hard to remember what ur voice sounds like. I have to think really hard abt it to hear it and even then I’m nt sure its right . I used to love bhearin u talk. I mean hated it bc u never shut up but. Coulda read the dictionary and I’d be happy_ **

And five minutes later:

**_That was dumb. See what u did turned me into a SAP_ **

And a minute later:

**_When I find you I’m gonna kiss you so fuckin hard_ **

The worst part is he’s completely sober.

**

He gets The Call a week later at three in the morning. His stomach clenches and his heart instantly starts flying. This is what happens every time his phone rings nowadays.

At three in the morning, Fowler is a voice he expects.

Fowler saying they got an anonymous tip who thinks there’s a gang holding androids in a church basement is _never_ what he expects.

This is it. This is the tip they’ve been waiting for. They’re gonna walk into this church and the 43 missing will be found. _He’s gonna see Connor._

He barely remembers to put pants on before sprinting out the door. He’s running on about an hour of sleep, no contacts in _and_ forgot his glasses, has a busting headache, and pure adrenaline is making him shake. It's freezing and dangerous and plain stupid to take his bike and he _very fucking briefly_ thinks about getting a taxi. But there’s no goddamn time for that.

He almost dies at least four times on the way there.

There are already flashing lights of patrol cars when he pulls into the parking lot. There’s an ambulance, too. Fowler. That fucker. He must’ve waited to call Gavin when he _knew_ full fucking well that he wanted to be the first one there when this happened. Why did no one else call him?

Civilians in pajamas are standing on their porches staring, probably wanting to know what the fuck is going on. Gavin doesn’t care about them- can’t get off his bike fast enough. He reaches to rip the helmet off his head, but there’s nothing there. He must’ve forgot it in his hurry. Connor’s gonna kill him. The thought makes him honest-to-God smile.

Through the swarm of officers going in and out, he spots Hank sitting on the church steps, and starts making his way over, fully prepared to chew him out for not calling. The closer he gets, the more he can see why Hank probably didn’t bother. He’s slumped forward, head in his hands. There’s a shock blanket wrapped around him.

_No._

All his excitement comes to a halt and is replaced by nervous energy. He stalks past Hank without saying a word and makes his way inside, only to be stopped by Chris. He’s carrying a leg. _A leg_. Covered in blue blood.

“Reed? Man, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I know you had your hopes up,” Chris shakes his head like he just can’t believe whatever’s happening.

What the fuck _is_ happening?

Gavin’s stomach turns as he walks down to the basement, not knowing what the hell to expect. Something horrible. It might be awful down here, but it’ll be _fine_ because Connor is here and he might be a little beaten up, a little shaken- but he’ll be okay.

 _Chris would’ve just told me if they found him alive. The ambulance is_ empty _and body parts are getting carried out from the basement. It isn’t hard to figure out what’s happened,_ a traitorous voice tells him.

He steps into the entryway where it all opens up and-

Nothing could have prepared him for this.

A massacre.

Bodies scattered across the floor, some in piles. All their skins are deactivated. Severed limbs. Thirium is smeared across the floor and painted against the walls.

It’s- this isn’t what they were supposed to find. He was supposed to get here, wrap Connor in a shock blanket, even though it wouldn’t really do anything for him and that was it. Everything was supposed to be okay again.

He’s just standing here gaping, legs not working. The room is spinning. This is his _job._ He needs to pull himself together and do what he got called here to do. Deep breath. It comes out as a strangled cry. _No, no, no, not here. Not now. Wait till you’re on your own time to mourn like a fuckin’ widow._

Suddenly, Tina Chen’s voice echoes throughout the basement.

“What the- Gavin? Who let him down here?” She marches her way over, grabs his shoulder and leads him deeper into the giant room. There are less bodies back here.

“Sit,” she instructs and pushes him against a table. He jumps to sit on top of it, in no mood for arguing. He doesn’t think he could string a coherent sentence together right now, anyway. Tina moves between his legs and wraps her arms around him. Tight. Unprofessional. He can feel officers looking at them. He clings to her like her arms are the only thing holding him together.

“We’re gonna sit here a minute and then I’m taking you home, okay? You and Hank are too close to this- Fowler had no business sending you two in.”

How is she even functioning like a normal person right now? Connor’s gone. He gone, so how will the world even function now?

_Breathe._

“Maybe you were right,” It takes everything he’s got to spit these words out. “About him wanting to start over somewhere. Maybe he just left and-”

“Gavin, no,” her hand moves to the back of his head. _Why? Why ‘No’? That was a good explaination for you six months ago, why not now?_ “The android officers have been scanning parts trying to get identity matches. It’s gonna take a dick year to match all these, but- _Gavin_. Gavin, they found both of Connor’s arms.”

The metallic taste of blood fills his mouth. Fuck. It takes a moment to realize he’s the one causing it, teeth clenched over his bottom lip. If he releases it, he doesn’t know what kind of horrific wail might come out. _Fuck_. He shakes his head. _No. They aren’t his. The androids are wrong, they aren’t his._

“They are,” Tina says. Did he say that out loud? Huh. “They’re upstairs. We’re gonna try to group the parts together so they can have proper funerals. I’m so sorry.”

“Shit,” he grits out against her neck. Static fills his ears. “I’m not gonna cry.”

He’s going to cry. His eyes have been stinging ever since he stepped down into this Hellhole and it’s only a matter of seconds before the hot liquid escapes. He can’t even see from the blurriness. His breath comes out in quick gasps- he might actually vomit, and then a soft whimper, except- except that whimper wasn’t his. He swears it.

“Did you hear that?” He pulls away from Tina, who to his surprise has red-rimmed eyes. It’s easy to forget he isn’t the only one crazy about Connor. His mind wanders to Hank outside, who’s probably going through seven layers of hell right now. The guy just lost another son.

Tina shakes her head and sighs.

“C’mon, let’s go,” she pulls his arm and he slides off table, amazed he’s even able to stand. But there’s the cry again. And it is _not_ fuckin’ him because he’s doing a damn good job of keeping his utter devastation inside of him right now.

“There it is again,” he scans the floor for a telltale LED, even though most androids have taken them out.

“Gavin, you’re in shock.”

Probably. But he’s still a detective. He wills the static in his ears to just shut the fuck up. He listens. Under the table. He drops to his knees- bingo.

“Please don’t hurt me!” A little android girl chokes out. She’s hiding under a limbless body that’s leaking thirium all over her.

Tina is yelling for medics.

“Hey, we’re here to help, okay? Let me just-“ he pulls the body off her.

“Help him too, he saved me!” She cries. Gavin looks back at the destroyed android and the head lolls around to show a faint red LED. Half lidded eyes stare at him.

“Shit. Tina, talk to the kid, this guy’s still alive.”

He crawls closer to the broken body. The chest plate is open and there must be some internal component that’s loose or ripped because thirium is spurting out like a fucking sprinkler. The left side of his face is dented in. No arms, no legs- just a naked plastic body. Poor guy looks like a ken doll who just spent too much time with a hyper toddler. He lays a hand on the man’s stomach in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. He’s probably going to die here before the medics make it down. A damn shame.

The dude just keeps staring at him through squinted eyes like Gavin’s presence has personally offended him. Maybe it has. He’s been told he has one of those faces that are easy to hate. He’d probably be pissed too.

“Just hang on, man, help’s on the way,” he tries.

Somehow this makes it all worse because the guy frowns deeply and starts _slamming his head against the concrete floor._

“Shit, fuck, stop!” He acts on instinct and holds the other’s head in tight grip. The dude flicks his tongue out and _licks_ his exposed wrist.

“What the fu-” Gavin yelps and jerks his hand away. That was- that was. Brown eyes continue staring at him. Expectantly.

Dark chocolate eyes that he has been lost in a thousand times. His heart sinks.

This is not happening.

He slowly brings two fingers to the others lips because _maybe just maybe he’s not losing his goddamn mind._

The guy licks him. _Connor. It must be. It has to be him._

His breath hitches and he cradles the dented face much gentler this time.

“Connor?” He chokes out. _Please._

The guy- _Connor_ nods. He smiles, closes his eyes and turns his head to press a kiss into Gavin’s palm. This is what finally breaks him.

“Where are the fucking medics?” He screams through a closed-up throat and an onslaught of tears. His vision is swimming worse than ever. “There’s a fucking dying officer here!”

Connor’s LED fades out.

He is vaguely aware of hands on his shoulders pulling him back, pulling him away from the only thing in his world worth living for, of people rolling Connor’s lifeless body on to a stretcher, lots of yelling, a little girl bawling.

He blacks out.  

***

He knows where he is before he even opens his eyes. That overly clean chemical smell trying to cover up the scent of sickness and death- it’s a dead giveaway. There’s the unmistakable pull of an IV in his arm. Just why the fuck-

 _Wait_. His eyes fly open and he springs up into a sitting position, fully prepared to rip the IV out.

“Whoa, hey, easy!” Tina’s hands are against his chest, keeping him in place. She squints her eyes in an accusatory glare. “You haven’t been taking care of yourself. Before you ask, we thought you fainted from panic but turns out it was that _and_ dehydration. When was the last time you even drank anything?”

He whips his head around the room before his eyes fall on Hank sitting in the corner, looking somber as ever. Hank opens his mouth to speak.

“Don’t,” Gavin hisses, “Don’t fuckin’ say it.”

The bedsheet clenches in his fist. At this point, he knows. There’s no denying it. All this time he’s been right- Connor _was_ alive. And now he’s not. Just like that. He remembers the LED going out and Connor must’ve bit it right there in his fucking arms.

“They reattached his arms but the officers are still trying to find his legs,” Hank says. Gavin nods along numbly.

He wonders if Hank will have a funeral or- tears well up in his eyes. Again.

“You idiot, are you hearing what I’m telling you? He’s alive, fuckface! They injected blue blood right in his pump with a big ass needle and bam. Just like a human getting slammed with adrenaline, seemed like.”

“Wha-” comes his stupid reply. Connor is alive? Hank sighs.

“A couple tubes got slashed, they went in and fixed those. Had to give him a new voice box. His other one was fried, apparently. Don’t even wanna know how that happened,” he shivers.

“He really wants to see you, Gavin,” Tina says softly, patting his hand.

Shit, he’s gonna get whiplash from all this.

“Well what the fuck am I doing still sitting here then?” He makes to get out of the bed for the second time before he is pushed back, yet again.

“First off, you need to listen to me and listen good. I know how you feel about him, don’t think I don’t. You’re a horrible, brash, asshole and loving Connor doesn’t change that. Believe me, I know. He’s just been through god knows what, who knows, I sure couldn’t get anything out of him. You gotta remember that, you understand?”

Gavin tries to overcome the awkwardness of basically receiving the “He’s my son, hurt him and I kill you” speech. He can’t even think of a sarcastic remark. He’s so, so tired and he just want’s to hold Connor. It has been so _long_.

“I would never hurt him.”

It comes out as a whisper and both Hank and Tina look caught off guard. Then, Hank scoffs and Gavin knows _exactly_ what he’s thinking about.

“That was years ago. It’s _different_ now and you know it. Besides, he kicked my ass before I could do anything, remember? It’s different now.”

“Gavin Reed in love. Weird. I like it. But weird.”

God, why is Tina still here? He pulls her hands off and stands, adjusting his drip to pull it along.

The walk to the android wing is a short one, but he’s winded. He guesses he can’t have been knocked out for long, still needs to recover. A clock at the reception desk reads 5:03 AM- He’s _definitely_ still running on fumes, but he’s so damn excited, he’s walking ahead of Hank.

 _Fucking finally._ The farther they walk down a seemingly endless hallway, the more anxiety starts to creep up on him. Why is he suddenly so nervous? Connor’s _alive_ and he’s about to see him and talk to him and touch him. This is all he’s wanted for over half a year.

He can’t shake the feeling that everything is going to be different. Connor is probably traumatized- what if he doesn’t want anything to do with Gavin anymore? Hank is right, he’s a rude asshole and that’s never going to change. What if Connor realized he doesn’t need that shit anymore? _What if, what if, what if._ He remembers Connor kissing his hand right before- before. That had to mean something. Or maybe it could be chalked up to dying.

Hank stops him outside the door.

“And another thing,” Gavin fully expects to get chewed out for something, “Thanks. You saved him. I don’t know what went wrong- we looked for survivors. And then they found his arms and,” His face is twisted like saying this is killing him. “Any later and it would’ve been too late. So. Thank you. For saving my son,” his voice goes quiet there at the end and Gavin _much_ prefers the Scary Dad Speech to This.

He nods. Awkwardly.

“Uh, the little girl? She okay?”

“She’s fine, last I heard. Around here somewhere gettin’ checked out. Got a big family with her,” Hank exhales. Thank God this conversation is over. He takes a deep breath before pushing the door open.

Chloe sits in a chair pulled up beside the bed. They appear to be deep in conversation, but Connor trails off when his eyes fall on Gavin. He’s wearing his skin now; A pad of gauze is taped from his jaw up to his cheekbone. No doubt, the only purpose it’s serving is to hide the dent. Connor had probably requested it.

His stomach plate is open and there are tubes feeding thirium into his body. A sheet covers his lower half- or, well. It gathers around his hips and then falls flat against the bed. It’s strange and uncomfortable seeing him so vulnerable and thank _fuck_ androids can’t feel pain because he would be in agony right now.

“Hello, Gavin!” It’s Chloe’s voice, but everything in this room has vanished except brown eyes and loose curls.

“Detective Reed,” a slow grin spreads across Connor’s face like this is all normal. Like they do this every Friday night. _Shit, his voice._ His insecurities and doubts melt away and Gavin nearly melts along with them.

He’s a fucking angel. Connor is surely the closest thing to a heaven he’ll ever see.

_Robocop._

_Tin-can._

_Plastic._

All the familiar insulting pet names die on his lips.

“Connor,” he chokes past the lump in his throat. Something changes in Connor’s expression- less happy and more concerned as he reaches an arm out toward Gavin. It’s all he needs to stride across the room and _finally_ wrap his arms around the android who’s caused him enough grief to last 100 lifetimes. He barely remembers to yank his drip along.

It’s the most awkward hug he’s ever had, if you could even call it that. Connor’s stomach plate is in the way and there’s a mess of wires and tubes coming out in every direction. Gavin has to be careful not to jostle his own IV. To make matters worse, Connor is mostly flat on his back, only propped up by a couple pillows. He accidentally pulls a tangle in Connor’s messier-than-normal hair and Connor has his hands resting on Gavin’s waist like a nervous prom date. It’s probably the worst hug in history.

It’s perfect.

Hank clears his throat and, really, he can’t even be bothered to feel embarrassed right now.

“Uh, I’m gonna go make a phone call- see how the interrogations going. Chloe…you too.”

“But I don’t-”

Hank bursts out into a fit of fake as hell coughs. Chloe makes a noise of realization.

“You’re right, we should give them some privacy.”

The door clicks shut and Connor chuckles quietly. Gavin presses his face into the other’s neck. It feels exactly like coming home after a long bout of homesickness. There go his eyes again. At this point, he doesn’t even try to blink the tears away, let’s them flow freely and silently down his cheeks. The way Connor’s grip tightens around him says that he can probably feel the wetness against his neck. Gavin will be humiliated later. Right now, he’s just so fucking happy and he’s never had a reason to cry tears of joy before this moment.

“Missed you so fuckin’ much,” _Wow,_ his voice is wrecked. He’s exhausted but like hell he’s ever leaving these arms around him. As always, Connor seems to read his mind. He wriggles over the best he can and pulls Gavin down to lay beside him. He does it without ever breaking their hold.

“I missed you, too. Every second.”

It’s much more comfortable and _much_ more intimate. He prays a nurse doesn’t walk in. His own nurse will probably be wondering where he’s at soon, unless Hank or Tina has explained things. He’ll need this needle out of his arm eventually.

He’s not sure how long they lay there in silence, but eventually his eyes dry and Connor stops petting his hair.

“You’re right. You definitely are a sap. Not sure _I_ had any play in that, however.”

Gavin nods weakly, not really understanding, until. Wait. He raises his head to look into a pair of mischievous eyes. His heart stops. _The messages._

“You actually got those?”

“Every day,” Connor’s eyes go soft, “Gavin, you saved my life. Not just when you found me this morning but every day for over half a year you saved me from myself. I could have self destructed. I almost did once. But you never gave up on me, so I couldn’t give up on you.”

_Christ._

“They messed with my communications so that I could receive, but not send. I’m sorry. I know how distressed you were.”

“Jesus, don’t apologize. Ugh. What about the voicemails?” He hesitates asking.

Connor is silent for a moment.

“Yes,” he whispers, “Those were…hard to listen to. I don’t particularly enjoy hearing you cry, Gavin. Especially not like that.”

His face heats up in embarrassment as he stammers out a quiet “Sorry.”

”Don’t apologize ,” Connor parrots his words back back him.

Minutes tick by. He knows he should be asking all kinds of questions right now, how Connor feels, what really happened to him, if someone will be able to fix his face. Actually, that last one is definitely out of bounds. And he knows Connor won’t want to speak of anything that happened, not right now. Maybe this is all they need in this moment.

“So, if I’m remembering correctly, and I know I am, I’ve been cheated out of a kiss for approximately three hours now.”

Connor never ceases to surprise him. He brings a hand to a soft synthetic cheek.

“You really wanna kiss me? Not repulsed by the idea?”

A sheepish expression crosses over Connor’s face and for a second, Gavin worries he’s changed his mind.

“I can have reconstructive surgery on my face,” his fingers ghost over the gauze covering his jaw, “But it will probably scar.”

Gavin want’s to laugh. Everything that’s happened and this is what Connor’s worried about.”

“Shit, a scar? Dealbreaker.”

He presses his lips to Connor’s temple, right on his LED.

Gavin doesn’t know how Connor can smile after what he’s been through, but here he is grinning like Gavin’s giving him the world. Fucking psychopath.

“You sure you want this? It’s not just you feeling like you owe me something with that weird guilt complex of yours?”

“I’m sure,” he practically whines.

He kisses his cheek. Connor huffs, annoyed. Gavin laughs- the first time he’s laughed in who knows how long. All because he _lives_ to get on Connor’s nerves.

He doesn’t want their first kiss to be in a hospital with one of them ripped apart and the other halfway out of it. He would’ve liked for it to be a little more romantic because that’s what Connor deserves.

But this is his second chance and he’s not about to waste it. If these past months have taught him anything, it’s that he and Connor aren’t likely to grow old together- well, _he_ grow old with Connor by his side.  Their line of work is dangerous. This will end with one of them in an early grave leaving the other heartbroken. They just got lucky this time.

In the end, it’s Connor who grabs his face and pulls him in. Their lips fit together like they were made for each other.

Gavin was right. They’re puzzle pieces.

**Author's Note:**

> can u tell i luv italics and hyphens
> 
> i feel like i should apologize for gavin being so out of character but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ he's in luv ok. I'm thinking about writing another part for this that shows all of Gavin's messages if that's something y'all might be interested in??


End file.
